


Silver and Blood

by stepOnMeZenos



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampires, Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), M/M, Vampire Hunter Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Vampire Zenos yae Galvus, ZenoHika Week Winter 2021 (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29130573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: Another night, another hunt—only this time, Zenos meets his equal at last.ZenoHika Week Winter 2021, prompt: Supernatural AU (Bite)
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Kudos: 18





	Silver and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> And at last was I able to write vampire Zenos without it turning into a novel.

Night fell, and Zenos awoke. 

Hunger gnawed at his insides as he rose from his bed. He had not fed the night before, on account of not finding any worthwhile prey. Though he had little doubt that that would change today, he could not delay it any longer. There was only so long a vampire could go before starving. If that meant hunting the unworthy, then so be it; it would be a pitiful ending to his life—or perhaps death—indeed, were he to refuse sustenance completely now. 

He drew the curtains back and peered through the dusty window. The sun had already vanished below the horizon. The streets beneath the window lay empty; rumours about this quarter of the city abounded now that he had taken residence in it, and few dared to brave the night for fear of falling prey to him. Not that walls would protect them from him. The myth that vampires needed to be invited in was, in the end, just that: a myth. 

For a time, he would make an attempt at finding worthy prey. He had little hope of achieving that tonight when it had not happened over the past few weeks, but the hunt was the sole pleasure that remained to him as he was now. He would not relinquish it so easily. 

And so he prowled. Past the sparse flickering street lights, from shadow to shadow, watching, waiting for someone to come challenge him. Vampire hunters did exist. Sometimes they got it in their puny heads to take him down. Always they had failed thus far, but surely there had to be a hunter worth their salt out there… 

Minutes ticked by, then hours. Nighttime was precious, and he could not afford to wait much longer. It was time to stop the hunt, then, and… 

Seemingly without a care in the world, a person wandered through the small cone of light underneath the nearest lantern. Small in stature, he hardly looked any different from other people who might come through these streets, except for the large silver sword hanging from his hip. 

“There you are,“ he said. “I've been looking for you all over. I was almost starting to think you wouldn't come out at all tonight.“ 

Zenos stepped out of the shadows. “Have you come to hunt me, mortal?“

“No, I carry around a silver sword for the fun of it. Of course I'm here to take you down. Did you think nobody would take notice of all the disappearances?“

“Quite the opposite,“ Zenos said. “I had hoped the right people would take notice.“ He bared his fangs. “Come, then, hunter. Show me your strength.“ 

He leapt at the hunter, who effortlessly sidestepped him and swung his sword. The cold aura of the silver chilled Zenos' flesh, but it did not quite graze his skin. 

The first step would be to remove that abominable weapon from him, perhaps by removing his arm, as Zenos could not touch the sword directly. However, when he clawed at the hunter, he missed by ilms, despite his supernatural speed—despite the fact that the hunter had been deep in grasping range. 

He tried again, and again the hunter slipped away at the last second. No matter which angle he came from, the hunter was somehow always just out of reach. It was baffling. Nothing of the sort had ever happened to Zenos before. Though the hunter had thus far failed at landing a hit as well, Zenos could not lay hands on him, it seemed… 

Was this perhaps the one he had been searching for? A glimmer of excitement rose within him. 

“Who are you?“ he asked, dodging the sword being swung at his throat. The cold was biting. If this went on long enough, the mere aura of the silver would be enough to cause harm to him. 

“A vampire hunter“, the hunter said, sidestepping Zenos' claws seemingly before he even struck. “Names are unimportant, since you won't live to see the dawn.“ 

Such confidence! How exhilarating, to finally be in the presence of one who did not cower and wet themselves when faced with his might! If he'd still possessed a functioning heart, it would be hammering now. 

“You are not like the other hunters who challenged me.“ Zenos' kick missed, and he had to retract his leg quickly to avoid the sword. What a tiny slippery man. It was as if he knew where Zenos would attack before it happened… “How are you evading me? My speed should overwhelm that of any mortal...“ He squinted. Any _mortal._ Was this man—no, no, he could not be a vampire. He would not have been able to hold the sword. Even if he were to power through the pain, the poisonous aura would have numbed his hand eventually. 

The hunter tapped his forehead. “Psychic, if you want to call it that. It comes in handy.“ 

Interesting… Zenos had heard murmurs about supposed psychics when he had still been alive. He had always passed it off as hogwash, but perhaps there was something to it after all.

“In other words,“ the hunter continued, “you can't hit me, no matter how fast you are. I know your intentions before you yourself do.“

“It helps you little when _you_ cannot hit me either.“ Zenos grinned. The expression felt strange on his face, as if his muscles had forgotten how to do it. “You are not fast enough for that, are you? Your mortal body fails you.“ 

“And what of it, if it even is true?“ 

“'Tis really quite the pity, is it not, that you possess such extraordinary abilities without the means to make use of them.“

“You are,“ the hunter said, “rather cocky for someone who knows so little about the full extent of my abilities.“ 

Then the world distorted, as if reality itself had shattered. It lasted for a mere second, but it was time enough for the hunter to lunge and thrust the sword at Zenos' throat. 

It was in this moment—with the tip of the silver sword piercing his skin and the bitter cold spreading through his entire body in an instant; with Zenos looking down the length of the blade at his assailant—that he thought he understood what love was for the first time.

It did not end there, of course. A fraction of a second later, he leapt backwards ere the sword pierced his windpipe—a clumsy, awkward leap, but it brought enough distance between them. As the silver's poisonous aura slowly receded, he would find himself able to flee and find a safe place to recover in. 

In that particular moment, however, Zenos found himself completely, utterly transfixed. This hunter had _injured_ him. Had come so close to dealing a killing blow. This hunter—this marvellous beast of a man—had not only stood up to him, but had _won_.

Even as he ran, he could not help but consider this newfound emotion. If it was indeed love, that vaunted feeling, then perhaps—

—perhaps being in love was not so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated.


End file.
